Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
“They’re in the kitchen talking about it right now. He wants her to make it a regular thing.”
That’s all it takes. He’s out of bed, pulling a robe on over his boxer briefs, striding down the hall toward the kitchen, and I’m right in step with him. Maybe some fireworks are what we need after all.
FRANK
I didn’t doubt Zeb’s words, but if I had, the way Griffin’s touching Ember would have been proof enough.
The two of them are leaning against the counter, standing way too close together, his hand clutching her hip. If they were sculpted in these poses, the title would be Intimacy, and it makes my fucking vision go red. “What’s going on?”
My focus is entirely on Griffin, and he flinches, looking startled that they’ve been caught and guilty as hell. He pulls his hand back, but doesn’t step away from Ember.
When his spine straightens, he forces a grin, his eyes nervously pinging back and forth between me and Zeb. “What’s the matter? You guys couldn’t sleep either?”
“What the hell’s going on?” Zeb repeats, ignoring Griffin’s light tone.
Stepping away from Ember’s side, his fists balling, Griffin stalks over to Zeb. “We’re talking. What’s it to you?”
Zeb’s chest puffs up, matching Griffin’s body language. “You had sex with Ember, and now the two of you are sneaking around our house.”
At the mention of sex, Ember goes white. I try not to look at her, because she’s wearing one of the pajama sets we got her, and goddamn, the thin tank top and shorts don’t leave nearly enough to the imagination. I’d give her some privacy, but I’m not going to stand by and watch these two assholes upset her.
The guys are in each others’ faces now, and while I wouldn’t mind seeing Griffin’s nose take a punch or two, this isn’t the time. Ember’s looking between them, on the verge of tears. She’s shrinking back toward the sink, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s about to run off.
“Cut it out! Right now.” My voice fills the room, loud enough to sober the two dickheads before they come to blows. “There’s a woman present—our guest—and I know you two aren’t about to make fools of yourself by brawling in the goddamn kitchen.”
Ember’s arms are folded over her chest, and her eyes are wide. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause any problems.”
“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” Griffin and Zeb both say, talking over each other. We’re all finally in agreement about something.
“It’s Griffin who’s to blame here,” Zeb adds. I tug on his arm to put some distance between him and Griffin; he shoots me a dirty look, but takes a step back.
“But I’ve let you all down.” Ember’s voice breaks. “I’m your manager, and I shouldn’t have —”
Zeb interrupts. “This has nothing to do with our jobs. I don’t give a fuck about that.”
“I’m confused, then.” Ember straightens and takes a breath, her words coming out more steady. “What’s this about? Why is there a problem?”
Zeb swipes a hand through his hair and looks to the side.
“Yeah, Zeb, why is there a problem?” Griffin taunts. When Zeb still doesn’t answer, Griffin keeps mouthing off. “Is it because you wish you’d been the one to be with Ember?”
Ember appears even more surprised at that, and looks at Zeb as if waiting for him to deny it. When he doesn’t say anything, Griffin decides to throw me under the bus, too. “Frank’s into you, too. All of us are.”
He’s back at her side, sliding an arm around her shoulder, but she shakes him off, her eyes darting between me and Zeb. “Is that true?”
I never intended to tell her, and if I did, this would be the last fucking way I’d have gone about it, but I’m not going to lie to her. So I nod. “Yeah, it’s true.”
My chest aches at the way she’s looking at all of us. We invited her into our home to help her out, then we made her more uncomfortable than she’s probably ever been in her life.
The sudden silence in the room is deafening. I should’ve just let Zeb and Griffin punch each other out.
“I can’t deal with this right now,” Ember says, looking around at all three of us, or rather, looking for an escape route.
I step away, and am glad when Zeb does the same. Ember makes a hasty exit and doesn’t look back.
In the morning, Ember’s the first one up, dressed in her work clothes and making coffee before the rest of us are ready. When Zeb goes into the kitchen, I follow him, feeling the need to be nearby in case any of his rough edges need smoothing.
“Morning.”
She looks up in response to my greeting, her eyes red and tired looking, despite the makeup she’s wearing. “Morning.”
Things are quiet as each of us prepare our drinks the way we like them, discomfort heavy in the air between us. This isn’t right. Not at all.